Page 12 of A Summer Scandal

‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You must like it then.’

‘It’s as good as anywhere,’ he said, non-committal. ‘Pretty special when the sun comes out.’

‘Does it attract much of a holiday crowd?’

Again, he looked as if he was hedging his bets. ‘Some. Not as much as the more well-known tourist spots further along the coast, but we do okay. We’re a bit more shabby than chic, if you know what I mean.’

Swallow Beach sat on the south coast, a forgotten little sister to Brighton’s famous pebble beach and the often-photographed Camber Sands. Violet rather liked the fact that it was off the tourist track; she’d been there less than twenty-four hours and already she was starting to feel territorial.

‘So what’s the grand plan then, Violet?’ he said, refilling both their wine glasses. ‘Are you here for a week, a month or forever?’

There he went again, coming out with something direct and unexpected.

‘The summer. To begin with, at least.’

He nodded. ‘And then back to the bright city lights?’

Thoughts of her distinctly orderly suburban life back home at her parents’ filtered in.

‘It’s not exactly that,’ she said, not wishing to say anything ungrateful. She knew she was lucky to be able to live cheaply at her parents’; it had allowed her the creative freedom to start the business rather than be forced to take a job she didn’t want to cover rent and bills.

Cal laid his cutlery down, his plate almost empty. ‘And is there a Mr Violet on the scene?’

Was he fishing? Or was this just another of his direct questions? He watched her steadily, his dark eyes interested. Violet found herself a little dry-mouthed; he was undeniably attractive and easy company. His question wasn’t a simple one to answer either, thanks to Simon’s insistence on waiting for her.

‘No, but kind of yes, a little bit,’ she said. ‘It’s complicated.’

He laughed softly. ‘Is that your Facebook status?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I know, it sounds flaky. It’s just …’

‘Complicated?’

Vi smiled, shrugged. ‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’

He didn’t push, and thankfully Roberto chose that moment to hustle over and take away their empty plates.

‘Dessert tonight, passion fruit pannacotta,’ he said, tipping a wink at Cal.

‘Irresistible,’ Cal smiled. ‘Two please.’

Violet wasn’t sure if she ought to feel irritated that he’d ordered for her, but on reflection she found not, especially given that she was a pudding kind of girl.

‘Passion fruit,’ Cal said, as Roberto disappeared with their plates.

There really wasn’t an answer to that, especially after three glasses of wine. ‘Indeed.’

‘I think we’ve reached the point in the evening where we trade secrets,’ he said, leaning back in his chair.

Violet took him in; the way his faded T-shirt and washed-out jeans followed the definitions of his body, suggesting someone who took care of themselves. He didn’t look like a gym worshipper though, more like someone who took themselves seriously. Until you looked into his face, that was; Cal didn’t seem able to stop his dark eyes from dancing or keep the ever-ready laugh from his lips. He was easy on the eye, and easy company to be in. Dangerous, in other words. The one thing Violet hadn’t come to Swallow Beach for was romance, especially not with her neighbour. If she thought her love life was complicated now, that would be a sure-fire way to make it as tangled as a fisherman’s trawl net. And perhaps she was hugely jumping the gun anyway; Cal Dearheart seemed the kind of guy who flirted as naturally as he breathed, it probably didn’t mean anything.

‘You can go first,’ she said, buying herself a little time.

He raised his eyebrows and tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, thinking. ‘Right. So, I’ve climbed a mountain,’ he said. ‘Three mountains, in fact.’

‘Oh,’ she said. That confirmed that he was indeed someone who took his body seriously. The idea of walking up a mountain filled her with unfathomable dread. Why would anyone do that for fun?

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